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2013.08.22 - Teeps and Drinkers
In a distracted tone of voice, Pete Wisdom's message was played over Kwabena's speaker phone. "Obiwan, 's Pete. I may be taking time off work to visit a friend down the bay. If I do and you're in the area, call me and we'll get hookers and blow or whatever." Looking up from the phone with a somewhat humored though equally wary smirk, Shift explained to Rachel what it meant. "Pete Wisdom. Let's call him an acquaintance. He's been around on at least two pretty significant ops, so... I do trust him, to a point. But, he's with SHIELD. Could mean he's giving me a heads up about dere ops in Genosha. Could be a trap set up by Directah Fury. We're a team now and all, so... you mind coming along to Harry's for a bit of babysitting? I'd like to see what he has up his sleeve." About half an hour later, Kwabena pulls up on his motorcycle outside of Harry's Hideaway. If Rachel had felt up to coming with him, there's room enough on the back of his Iron 883, but well, perhaps she felt like finding her own way. Either way, he parks the bike, lets the helmet dangle from a handlebar, and trots into the nice little exurban bar like he belongs there. It doesn't matter that he's wearing a pair of almost-skinny jeans, a black biker jacket, and one of those slightly oversized t-shirts with 'FUBU' written on it. He's been here before. Pete's been there before. He ought to have known where to look when Kwabena responded with three simple words: Harry's. One hour. And Wisdom? He's in Harry's already, jeans and a Cure shirt because fuck you Clint Barton the Cure is not silly; he's got a notebook -- the paper kind, not the computer kind -- that he's airing out because he got beer on it; his hair looks like it got run over by a bus. Yes: just his hair does. Notebook page turns, another single leaf of paper propped up to dry; the unremarkable-looking fellow re-beers and then fishes out his phone, starts texting someone. There doesn't seem to be any nervousness or anything, even on a broadly empathic level; if Ray's looking for anything sticking out, the guy at the bar crying into his PBR is probably more noteworthy. Rachel's propped up against the nearest wall, arms folded, legs crossed neatly at the ankle, while Kwabena's voicemail plays. as 'Pete's' voice gets to the entertainments section, she snorts and looks up to meet Shift's gaze, one eyebrow quirked above a sardonic expression, which turns more amused as Shift fills her in on some details. "Sure." She says, before adding dryly. "Unless it turns out he really does want to meet up for hookers and blow, in which case you're on your own." Rachel did think briefly about borrowing Jean's Lexus, but not all that seriously. So she's first off Shift's bike as he draws to a halt, pulling off her own helmet and ruffling her fingers through her short hair to rescue it as best she can. The helmet's left on the bike, but once she's shrugged out of her jacket that's slung over one shoulder, revealing a blood red t-shirt with a gold firebird design and skinny jeans tucked into high boots. Rachel lets Shift precede her into the bar, catching the door so that it doesn't slam behind her, senses alert - but picking up no threats so far. Should Shift glance her way, an almost imperceptible nod will be given. Is there someone else at Harry's already? Possibly. Probably. Odds are this person didn't come with Shift. Or Pete. But they /would/ be recognized by Rachel. Why? Because it's a /Summers/. One that Rachel has met before. For the older redhead sort of has a niece. But to explain just how they're connected would involve time travel, possibly alternate realities, and of course adoption. ...Not that one can tell that Hope is adopted, considering she has red hair just like her 'aunt' and 'grandmother'. But anyways, the teenaged redhead is sitting at a table in the bar, wearing a plain green t-shirt and blue jeans. Why she's here is anyones guess. but considering what Doug, Nate, Jean, their friends and allies have let slip, if not flat out said, she more than likely is stopping for a bite before she moves on to her final destination. The Xavier Institute. Not that she'll admit it or say why she's headed there. Back at the X-Men base? It's worth noting Shift's response to Rachel. "Sugah, I left dat life a long time ago." The blow part, of course. Shift never went to 7th Avenue, after all. Now, inside Harry's Hideaway, it doesn't take long for Kwabena to spot Pete Wisdom. The Cure shirt made sense (hello, Brit pop), as did the notebook with notable lager stains riddled across it. "Thank God dere's no roaches," he mutters, more or less to himself, but there's a strong chance Rachel may have overheard it. A brief, sideward glance is given to Rachel before they flick toward Pete's booth indicatively. << Keep an eye out. >> It's a simple thought, but easy to obtain given Kwabena's openness to Rachel's telepathy. "Wisdom." Kwabena comes up to Pete's table, leaning on it from the side with both palms placed to avoid any beer spillage. "Glad you got my message." He nods to the empty seat across from Pete, asking, "Dis seat open, or are you waiting for a hottie from 7th to come down and make your dreams come true?" "Fucksake, Odame, I haven't paid in over a decade," Pete says, shoving his chair out to stand and offer his hand, laughing. "I didn't expect you to come meet me, anyway, I was just letting you know. Given the givens." His eyes flicker over Rachelwards, and he gives her a smile, but she'll certainly be able to pick up the fact he's gotten a little suspicious. But then his attention snaps back to Shift. "If you didn't already have plans, I was going to ask if you wanted to come with. I'm certainly not dragging Blaire, she might be an hero again." Roaches? Rachel heard that, all right. "Classy." She murmurs back to Shift, her eyes following his gaze to meet Pete's. She acknowledges his smile with a quick nod and an ironic little smile of her own, even as she reaches out with her telepathic senses. A light touch, it's just enough to take the measure of his mind. She feels the suspicion, but no real anxiety, and none of the anticipation that might presage the ambush Shift mentioned. << Will do. But right now you're in the clear. >> In any case, she now has Pete's mind plotted on her mental map of the immediate area. Along with another mind that's familiar, a mind that Rachel recognises easily due to having tracked its owner on more than one occasion. "I'll let you two catch up." Rachel says smoothly when she can get a word in, and offers Pete another quick nod as she takes a step away. << Someone I wasn't expecting. Nothing to worry about. Yell if you need me. >> It's all delivered quietly to the back of Shift's brain as Rachel heads for the bar. In deference to who she's buying for, it's with a bottle of Coke in either hand that she approaches Hope's table. Sliding one of the bottles across to the younger redhead, Rachel tilts her head toward an empty chair in a wordless question. But what she actually says is, "Believe it or not? This time I'm surprised to see you." And as Kwa joins Shift, Hope doesn't even quirk an eyebrow. After all, she doesn't know either man, let alone their connections, thus they don't get a second glance. At least not yet anyways... On the other hand, Rachel as she comes over gets a long hard look, before the younger redhead... Smiles and motions towards the seat across from her, indicating that if she wants to, Rachel can take a seat. "Considering I didn't bother to try and call, I don't think anyone has a clue that I'm coming." the younger redhead admits as she catches the coke battle and takes a swig. "Consider it a bit of a surprise then. Hopefully a pleasant one, all things considered." Accepting the handshake, Kwabena smirks ruefully and answers, "Go on telling everyone, it makes de story real damn believable." With a somewhat more graceful than is usual motion, Kwabena sits down opposite Pete with very little sound. A disturbed look crosses his eye when the Latveria operation is referenced, and he leans into the backrest behind him slowly. "I don't think she'd be a big fan of de place, any ways." A brief nod of assent is given when a waitress brings over a beer for him, and plops a bill onto the table for payment. "Well, goes without saying, you've got my radar all hot and boddahed. Talking Heads are telling me it's all about de UN." He's cleverly avoiding any use of the word 'SHIELD', and his voice drops a few decibels to protect the privacy of their conversation. "Feel like declassifying any info for me?" Rachel's departure is noted, though only with an outward nod of his head. Thoughts echo back to her in secrecy. << Okay. Oh and thanks. >> "Have none," Wisdom says, spreading his hands and looking more than a little annoyed. But then he lifts a shoulder in a sort of shrug, voice falling casually, the rhythms and tones of discussing the pros and cons of various sports teams taking residence in his speech. "Except what I know on my own, which is probably less than you do. It doesn't surprise me there're UN issues; it somewhat unnerves me I haven't been tagged to take care of anything. Could be deliberate, because of some shit about my DNA. Haven't brought it up with the brass in case I get told /not/ to go; I'm not having /that/. I've /friends/ there." The Englishman's face looks a little pinched, a little tired; he picks up his beer and slugs some back, making a different face. Because, American beer. "But I've honestly missed a lot of memos; I've been dealing with a Kobra installation on Dino Island. Which reminds me! Do you know anyone who wants some baby cyborg dinosaurs? Because there is no fucking room in my flat for that." Rachel doesn't take any offence at Hope's stare, seeming slightly amused rather than ruffled by it, but she does at least wait for Hope to make a decision rather than force one on her. She doesn't wait for a second invitation, though, draping her jacket over the back of a chair and sliding into it. Her own bottle of Coke is corralled between her hands, the condensation on the bottle pleasantly cool against her skin, but she doesn't make a move to drink from it just yet. "Hey, if you still want to make a grand entrance, I won't tell anyone in advance." Rachel says, only half-joking, her recent - and interrupted - conversation with Nate about Hope very much in her mind. She grins. "I'm not going to pretend I'm not curious, though. What brings you out here?" Rachel gets a look of concentration on her face, which clears after a couple of seconds, replaced by something almost conspiratorial. "No-one except me is listening, if that makes a difference." Which doesn't mean that Rachel's not listening - at least in the telepathic sense - to anyone else. She's not quite good enough to follow two conversations at once, but she's keeping a light contact to Shift, enough to let her pick out anything interesting. "I'm going stir crazy at that school." Hope admits, even as her gaze flickers for a moment towards the guy that Rachel entered with, even if he is off by himself. "Months of nothing but learning? Realizing how much you don't know. All while knowing that eventually a crazy will try to show up to try and kill me... it gets boring. Especially after how I grew up. So I kinda figured I'd drop on by and 'visit' the family, and /maybe/ learn a bit about the school you guys are running..." Yeah. it's probably a good thing that she took off without talking to anyone from The Academy of Tomorrow. Who knows how some of them, like Emma, would react? "And if you want to tell them, feel free. I wasn't really thinking of trying to make a grand entrance." Similarly, Kwabena lifts his beer and takes a good slug. When he settles the glass back down, however, it's positioned in such a way that the reflections of both Rachel and Hope are visible to him only, reflected off the curved glass with an amber hue from the contents within. He'll have to go easy. It was weak stuff, but he didn't want Rachel worrying about his ability to drive back to Chuck's House. Casually eyeing the Summers' in said reflection, his eyebrow tilts up just so. He covers it by remarking, "Dis is de best they've got?" in reference to the beer. His eyebrow shoots back down, somewhat woefully, when Pete fails to disclose any classified information. "You might want to catch up on dose memos," emotes the African. "Last time I checked, dis ain't Jurassic Park. I got a suggestion; let 'em loose in Gotham. See how fast it makes de nightly news." Seems Shift isn't about to be distracted by that morsel of information Wisdom dropped. He cants his head curiously, eyes narrowing. "Friends?" he presses. Odd, how he can no longer pick up any of the words between Hope and Rachel. Are their lips even moving? Kwabena merely glances at their reflection before lifting the beer for another pull. "Civilians," says Pete distinctly unhappily, flipping the dried notebook page and then turning it over, taking his pen out from behind his ear, starting to doodle on the page. "Lived there for generations." Implication: human. "I've been trying to convince them to get out ever since the first big changes, but you don't-- it's-- they won't go. They think the bay's safe enough. So I want to make sure there are still options to get out for as long as possible. I just also figured old square-jaw'd be sending a contingent, and I don't want to get shot. I *really hate* getting shot." He glances up. "If I don't make it out, anyway, can you tell Pryde I'm sorry, and-- she can pay it forward if she still thinks she and the others owe me. Please?" The doodle looks like-- a doodle. There's no code, just spirals and outlining the edges of the paper's lines with ink. "If anything changes, I'll text you something stupid and random." Rachel can't help but notice Hope's interest shift away, and she knows exactly where it's shifted to. "He's OK." She says, shooting for a reassuring tone. It's undermined a bit by her sneaky smile. "I'm keeping half an ear on his friend, too. It's a pretty weird conversation." Rachel did pick up on the baby cyborg dinosaur comment, but she's not sure she wants to know the details of that one. She does pick up a stray thought from Shift, though. << I can drive back. >> The thought insinuates itself quietly into Shift's mind. As for school, though? "Tell me about it. Nothing you know seems important to them, and what they want to teach you seems... pointless?" Rachel's guessing, based on her own experience. "Y'know, with people trying to kill you." Rachel's Coke bottle is tilted toward Hope. "Or a Sentinel apocalypse on the way." The bottle is tilted back toward herself, and there's a distinctly ironic tone in her voice. It's not that she's taking either scenario lightly, it's just that no-one else understands. "You'd think I'd have missed out on that, but... not really." Her tone's rueful as she says that, since a few of her team-mates seem to think she needs ethics lessons if nothing else. Shaking that thought off, her eyes focus on Hope once more, and a bit of a smirk touches her lips. "I think I'll let it be a surprise to Doug at least. You can hunt him down for a change." There's a nod, a smile, and a blunt, "Exactly." as Rachel hits the nail on the head regarding the school. After all, when compared to what Hope has been through... "I wouldn't know about Sentinels. But nukes, biological warfare, chemical warfare, and humans mutated into cockroach soldiers, plus The Brood..." She shrugs. "As for the school... There's a lot about history that feels off, things where computers feel old and slow no matter what I do, or how the teachers claim they're brand new and top of the line, and.... It's just the same. Day in and day out. No running. just the same people. It's...." "Boring. Part of me wants to try and find some way to get out there and to do /SOMETHING/ rather than just sitting around." Listening intently, Kwabena nods his head once or twice when Pete explains who his friends are. "Well, de landscape is changing dere so quickly, it's almost impossible to see exactly what's going on. Especially beneath all de media and political smokescreen Erik Lehnsherr is creating here in de states." There is a brief pause, his tone shifting to something more inquisitive. "Square-jaw? Who de hell?" When Pete brings up Kitty Pryde, Kwabena just leans back and nods his head. "Sure. I'll pass it along. You know, if I have to." He lifts the beverage to take a drink, taking a few moments to consider a few things himself. << What, you think one beer makes me unsafe? You underestimate me, Red. I've thrown down an entire flask and never twitched a muscle. Then again, if I crash, it's not really going to hurt me, so I guess... well. I can be reckless. >> Thought flashes past so much faster than actual dialogue, after all. The quick response comes in all but the blink of an eye. "Lots of crazy going on out dere," Kwabena mentions. "To be honest, I've been lying low. Can't really say exactly why. Not de right time." Certainly Pete would understand if he knew the details of all the things Kwabena has been up to, but, now is definitely not the time. "Can't say I'll be riding shotgun to Hammah Bay with you either. But..." He chooses his words carefully. "If you happen to run into me dere? Play nicely, and for Christ's sake, keep it quiet. Lehnsherr's got a hardon for me, and I'm trying to avoid having my molecules torn apaht at de seams." There is a pause, before he considers adding something else on to that pile. "I'll tell you dis, dough. New kind of Sentinel's are about. Dunno exactly what dey can do, I mean, not in detail, but... regeneration, remote control, and targetting Homo Sapien's all on dere menu." Time for another slug of beer, definitely. "You know, *your* one-eyed bloke," Wisdom answers Shift's query with a handwave and a surfeit of insouciance. Because, prick. "Not that his jaw's square, he just sort of acts like it, you know? Not a bad leader at all. I prefer Wagner, but I'm biased." But then he slouches in his own chair, arm straight out in front of him to keep doodling on the paper. "Yeah well..." he trails off, then looks wry. They do, in fact, both know when's a good time and when's absolutely not. Eyes up at Kwa again, and Pete half-smirks. "You know I'm willing to play along with you, for fuck's sake. If I didn't know better, I'd think you had 'trust me' encoded into some sort of my-brain-aimed psychic laserwave or sommat. Besides, I don't want Lensherr noticing me no matter /what/ capacity I'm acting in." Finally, the Londoner shoves himself upright in his chair again, clicks his pen a couple of times, and scowls. "And that /there/ is enough to mean it's time to step out for a smoke. Are they about in the States?" Rachel had meant her little telepathic comment to Shift in the nicest possible way after she'd picked up on his concern. Since he and Pete were getting along fine and it didn't seem like she'd be needed for backup purposes, he might as well drink as much as he liked. She's not expecting the display of bravado that she gets back over the link between them, but the silent, silvery laughter that echoes through his mind proves that she's not taken aback by it. The emotional state at the other table is getting a little more intense, though, but Rachel doesn't judge that it's anything that requires her to stick her oar in. Rachel's eyes might have gone unfocused for a second or two, but she doesn't miss anything Hope says. Rachel nods soberly as Hope reels off a list of the assorted horrors she's had to deal with. "Sounds like you've had everything BUT Sentinels." Rachel says, leaning back a bit as if in thought, before shaking her head and taking a sip of her drink. "Thing is, though, they're here already." Rachel smiles darkly. "I don't think you're going to be able to avoid the full set." Realizing that the conversation has taken a depressing turn, Rachel just listens to Hope talk about her school, a bit of a smile finding its way back onto her face after a moment or two as Hope complains. "Even when the history matches up, the conclusions are off." Rachel comments. "I guess that's the benefit of hindsight." She doesn't have as much of that as Hope apparently does, but enough. The final complaint, though? That brings a grin from Rachel. "I can't help with the tech. But I might be able to help with the boredom." And then, because she's that much older and she saw what Hope was wearing last time they met, she adds, "Plus we don't have school uniform." "The full set would be figuring out two of the big questions I have about the future and what happened." Hope admits. But as Rachel speaks up again, there is a /slight/ quirked eyebrow. "If you're going to try and recruit me for your school, I believe I already talked to Jean about it. And until a certain issue is resolved, I /shouldn't/ do much more than visit, and even then... Rarely." Then there's a slight pause. "All though if you guys need or want help from someone with no /official/ ties to you guys from someone who knows how to handle themselves in a fight, and who in theory could be a 'swiss army knife' power wise in the right circumstances..." And yes, as that's said, a flicker goes back to Shift and Pete. Sure the younger redhead trusts the older redhead, but still... Oh, that one-eyed bloke. Let's just blame this 'a-ha' moment on the language barrier. "Well, if he does, it'll be me he's sending," quips Kwabena. He's not entirely surprised to get that harsh feedback from Pete, given the way he's been dodging around the conversation. Leaning forward with hands clasped around his half-finished beer, Kwabena fixes the SHIELD agent with a pointed look. "I get you," he answers. "But you know me. I tend to keep some few fingers in a few pots. Eyes anywhere I can sneak dem. Well, when that backfires, you make unwanted enemies, and I can think of a small handful who'd like to see my scalp on a plattah." Smirk. "If dey managed to find a way to separate it." That tele-laughter feedback from Rachel? It's enough to make the African blink. Twice. And fight very hard not to give her a look or throw something her way. Sitting back, Kwabena just continues to smirk. "Far as I can tell, Magneto's contingent has skipped town for de home land. So, you know. Don't set off any Pete Wisdom-shaped EMP's." How's that for a little throwback to Latveria? Before Pete can leave, however, Kwabena tilts his head and remarks, "Oh, if you run into Wagner? Do me a favah, tell him I nevah stopped praying." Dropping the last of his beer before standing, he offers Pete a rueful smirk. "I could use one too. Gonna go check on my girl, see you outside." That being said, he sets the empty glass down and wanders over toward Rachel and Hope, giving the latter a most curious look. Red hair, green eyes, similar size? No, it couldn't be. Not another... "Yeah, I get you," Wisdom laughs, his expression backing up the statement. He takes his cigarettes out and shakes one out of the pack, then snorts. "EMPs, he says. Craters of slag, maybe. And I will do, sure. Be right outside." After all, his beer's still on the table. So's his notebook. Giving a friendly nod in the direction of the two Summerses, Pete steps outside to light up. He's already playing nice: he's not smoking /in/ there. Rachel tilts her head with interest at Hope's slightly cryptic comment, but before she can even decide whether to dig any further Hope... is apparently letting her down gently before she can launch into a sales pitch for the Xavier School? Rachel tries and fails to keep the grin off her face. "I was joking about the uniform." She tells the younger redhead, still grinning. "I'm not trying to sell you anything." She shrugs. "Except, maybe, an antidote to boredom now and then." Between her and Nate, surely they can do that much... Rachel quickly realises that Hope's not done being serious yet. It reminds Rachel of how driven she herself was when she first arrived in this world, and she remembers how much she didn't listen to anyone who tried to get her to change, so she doesn't inflict that on Hope. "That could be more useful than you know." Rachel offers, looking thoughtfully at Hope. "You'll have to show me what you can do, sometime." She leaves things at that with Hope, though, because she's seen the other redhead's eyes move past her again. Rachel twists around a bit in her chair, gives a bit of a cheeky wave to Pete as he heads out, and shifts her gaze to Kwabena. << 'My girl'? >> Rachel's telepathic voice in his mind asks lightly, and a moment later she says out loud, "Hope, meet Kwabena. Kwabena, Hope Summers." She smirks impishly at Hope. "And not quite, but close enough." The first time Hope and Rachel 'met', Hope did sort of show what she could do. In theory. In that she let out a loud telepathic 'shout'. But still... As she watches Pete leave, and Kwa is introduced, the younger redhead raises her hand and appears to focus. That is before something happens. Something that looks a hell of a lot like one of Wisdom's 'Hot Blades' appears as her eyes glow. That is before just as quickly as it appears said blade vanishes. "Ever here the phrase 'Anything you can do, I can do'? When it comes to Mutants, that's me." is finally said before she shifts her full attention towards Kwa for another moment or two, so she can nod at him. "nice to meet you." << Should I have asked you out, first? >> If its possible to telepathically perceive a smirk, there might be one on Kwabena's mind voice. << I trust Pete. I don't trust politics, or SHIELD. Just laying some ground in case he gets the wrong kind of nose and I need a story here. >> It's a truthful enough explanation, and it is the reason Kwabena used that particular phrase. That being said... are the African's cheeks a touch darker? Looking toward Hope, Kwabena offers a friendly smile and is about to speak up, when his mis-matched eyes catch that little display of power. He falters, briefly looking over toward Rachel curiously before looking back at Hope. "Nice to meet you, too," he says, paired with a quick nod. Back to Rachel he looks, smile slipping a bit. "Okay, so... I'm gonna step outside with Pete for a smoke. Don't think dere's anything to worry about, but... I'm not sure just how much to tell him. You get any funny feelings from de guy?" Once again, there's the perhaps unsettling sensation of Rachel laughing quietly in the back of Shift's brain. << You mean this isn't really a date? >> Rachel says with such studied innocence that she's patently not serious. << Sure. Makes sense to me. >> She adds in a cheerful tone. She wouldn't be bantering with Shift if he still had to keep his game face in place for Pete, but... Pete's stepped outside now. Hope's display is an effective distraction, though. And Rachel only has to scramble a little bit to make sure none of the staff or other patrons take any notice of anything out of the ordinary they might just have seen. "Nice trick." Rachel says, deliberately understating how useful and impressive an ability it is. Rachel tilts her head, clearly intrigued. "JUST as well as I can, too?" She asks. As Shift looks toward her again, Rachel looks up on cue, brows drawing together slightly as she sees his expression change, and then she's frowning thoughtfully at the question she's asked. She deliberately takes a breath and lets it out before answering. "I kept a light surface scanning running while you were talking. No obvious lies, and his attitude toward you was genuine. Based on that... he's on the level." Rachel's frown deepens. << The question really is... how good an 'acquaintance' is he? I haven't gone digging. You need to tell me if that's what you want me to do. >> And here's where Hope raises her hand and waffles it a little. "In theory." the younger redhead admits as she eyes Kwa and his reaction. "I haven't really tried my abilities against the originals. If anything, i've been trying to make sure that I can cover the basics when I do it. After all, I think you'd understand what it's like to have a power like... Telepathy kick in with no warning in the middle of a crowded city." And while she might not be in on whatever Kwa and Pete were talking about, or know what's going down, she is a little curious. but she's trying /NOT/ to show it or act on it. Not quite sure if the laughter is unsettling or something he might get used to, Kwabena merely gives Rachel a -look-. << You really think I'd take you here? >> There's certainly something to be said for banter, but there might be a touch of something genuine in his thoughts. Blasted telepaths. "Let me see how dis plays out," he says, answering Rachel's telepath question with real words. "I don't want him to notice and be ruffled." He throws up a little wave toward Hope, casting the younger Summers a smile. "Nice to meet you, Hope." As he walks out the door, a thought is fired back Rachel's way. << I know a nice trash heap in Hammer Bay. Lots of homeless people. Very romantic. >> Once outside, he's got a smoke in hand and is bringing it to life with his beat up, old zippo. "So, you're headed dat way," he says to Pete. "How soon?" Despite the display of Pete's power just inside, the Englishman's flicking a Bic on and off while he smokes moodily, leaning his pale, skinny frame up against the building. "Before the election. Be too late, else." He ashes, then squints at Shift. There's still no animosity, just tiredness. "Look, mate, if you're going to drag Grey around with you, just-- be up fucking front about not trusting me, all right? Don't ask to meet. I was only letting you know." Another drag, and the cigarette's done. "Bird's right fit, though, I'll give you that. Summers step on her toes?" Rachel purses her lips thoughtfully, but seems to give Shift the benefit of the doubt on his choice of date locations. At least, she doesn't comment, though there's still a glint of amusement in her eyes. Rachel seems to relax fractionally when Shift makes the decision not to send her digging into Pete's brain. She gives a swift nod, even if he has slighted her abilities just a bit. "Got it. I'll still be listening." She tells him, and as he moves away she turns back to face Hope. Then pauses with a smirk as Shift's message hits her. "One second." She says, holding up an index finger for emphasis, as her mind reaches back towards Shift. << Trust me, that wasn't on the list of places I imagined you WOULD take me. >> Her parting shot is delivered dryly, and then she shakes her head, amused, as she gives Hope her full attention again. "Sorry. This is the kind of excitement I can't talk about." She says, Hope's curiosity a little obvious, this close to a telepath, whether she's hiding it or not. She does sound genuinely apologetic though. Rachel switches gears. "Anyway. That's what I was getting at. I've been doing this for years, and crowds can still be a headache. If you like, try it with me sometime. If you're not a natural..." Rachel shrugs. "Maybe we could work on that. I've got a pretty decent bag of tricks you can borrow." Rachel grins, the expression a bit fierce. "And if I'm anywhere near when this guy who's gunning for you finally turns up? At least you'll give him a nasty surprise." Rachel's quite pleased with that idea, and leans back in her chair again, holding up her Coke bottle to judge how much is left. With a shrug, she raises the the bottle to her lips to knock back the contents, idly reaching out with her mind toward Shift and Pete as she does so. And then she's doubled over, coughing, having just inhaled the dregs of a fizzy drink. The cause? Pete's last comment, received loud and clear through Shift's senses. "I do not want to know how he's going to answer that one." Rachel says, wheezily, with no little vehemence in her voice. Then seems to think about what she's saying. "Scratch that, yes I do." And of course at Rachel's reaction to something to something that Hope can not see or hear, even if the older redhead is saying that outloud, prompts a bit of an odd reaction from the teenager. Namely she tilts her head, and asks, "Something you care to share with the rest of the class, or should I just assume it was the usual 'Summers Mixup' like when I called Jean 'Nate's Father'." Yeah. The whole father thing is a bit of an odd story. "And I might take you up on that. The helping me with the mind stuff that is. That is if we can do it without tipping off someone else either..." Pause. "Scratch that. two people. I wouldn't want to tip off that damn telepathic ape either." No response is given to Rachel's telepathic retort, save for the psionic equivalent of a smug grin. Pete's frankness is a good thing, really. It brings a good, honest grin to Kwabena's face, and he exhales a thick drag of his smoke upward into the air. "Not like dat," he counters. "I've been neck deep in de enemy's camp. Even had my mind altered to fit in. Did some ugly things, made some enemies, on both sides of de fence. So, you'll forgive me if I'm a bit more cautious about... pretty much everything." Ashing his cigarette similarly, he props a leg up on the side of the building. "We're headed dat way to set up a resistance. Socio-political at first, armed if necessary. No doubt it's going to get ugly, but if dere's any chance at cockblocking Lehnsherr's rise of de Fourth Reich, it starts dere. Believe me... I spent some time posing as one of his lackeys. He's as committed as dey come, and when he finds out what I've done? Not gonna be pretty." Smoke, exhale, ash. "Fury's got a bead on me, too. Not entirely sure what to think of 'im, he's about as easy to read as a Stephen King novel." Finally, an altogether mischievous expression flashes across his face. "Also, you got it wrong dere, mate. Dat's a Summers. Made of so much Grey, so much One-Eye, with a touch of time travel and a whole lot of what-de-fuck. Don't ask me. She's good at what she does, and damn if she isn't pleasing to de..." Suddenly, Kwabena goes silent. Rachel was keeping tabs on them, which meant... Fuck. There is a /coughing fit/ inside, and this time it's Pete's turn to look smug-- but it's only a little smug, it's mostly resigned. His shoulders relax slightly, and he takes out another cigarette, lighting it with his tiny little lighter. "Yeah. Well. I don't hold grudges excepting if whoever did whatever it was /enjoyed/ it. Then I take faces off. Without powers." There's still a mutant operative in Britain who very much /used/ to be handsome. "I expect it'd be even less pretty than von Doom's reaction, yeah," Pete adds easily, exhaling a cloud of blue-grey smoke and slouching much less moodily against the building. "He's not actually mad. This bloke-- he was in a /camp/, and he thinks this is a good idea. I've been trying my damndest not to make 'wearing an SS uniform' comments ever since you dropped the bit about the Sentinels' new targets. Fury you're better off not crossing, but for all his-- look, were you about when I quit? Because I quit. Turned out it wasn't him making uncharacteristic decisions, if you get me. He's the only one of his sort I'd work for; I can trust him better than I can trust myself, some days." He takes another drag, ashes again, and looks sidelong at Kwabena. "You going in the Bay ot the Ivory Tower? So I know where /not/ to send noncombatants. I am completely ignoring the fact that you said 'time travel' to my face and getting on with this conversation." Rachel sees the look on Hope's face, and has a hand raised in a mute request to give her a moment to get her breath back even before the younger redhead voices her question. Although when she does, Rachel looks up sharply. It was a pretty incisive guess, after all. "You're not far away." Rachel tells her, pretty much back to normal now, plunking the empty Coke bottle down on the tabletop. "Pete thinks..." Rachel begins, then just shakes her head and fires the memory at Hope. It's so much quicker that way. Rachel makes some effort not to look like she's telepathically watching Shift's brain like a hawk for his reply, briskly switching back to the far safer topic of Hope's powers. "I'd better make teaching you to shield properly the first lesson, in that case..." Rachel's words tail off a bit as that distant look comes into her eyes again. Rachel grins. Evilly. << By all means. >> Rachel's mental voice says, brightly. << Continue. >> And as that gets replayed for Hopes benefit, the younger redhead groans slightly and facepalms. Only as she starts to try and copy Rachels powers, she grins slightly, as if she picks up on what may have been thought by Kwa, and in turn the older womans little comment. Thus, and possibly unintentionally, Shift may end up picking up a /slight/ message as well, even if technically it was meant for the elder Summers. << And here I was thinking saying 'That's my aunt you're thinking about' like that. >> On the other hand, out loud, she says, "Okay. That tops my 'Call for Scott, get Jean instead, tell her to her face that if she's Nate's 'Father' then I really had the wrong opinion of him, then call her 'Grandma' to her face' story." "De Bay, most likely," Kwabena answers, having taken the rest of Pete's response in turn and noting it down quietly. "We're going to try for a peaceful solution to dis mess, but you and I both know Magneto's not interested in peace. So, contingencies have to be in motion. Honestly? We could probably use some noncombatants, if you have some few to spare." Pete's response to the mention of time travel is smirked at. Kwabena had a similar opinion on the subject, and had a hard time not dismissing the entire subject himself. However--and he knew this was coming--Rachel's voice in his head is not far away, and it interjects at once. And then there's another voice. Something not so similar, much quieter, and yet... there. A good, hearty drag of the cigarette is taken, and blown out nervously through his nostrils. << Really, I'd rather at least try to be a gentleman. >> It's a snarky thought, to be sure, but there is the distinct sense that Kwabena has been backed into a corner, in spite of the smirk that grows on his face. "Sorry about dat," he offers to Pete, while lighting another cigarette. "Having a little mind-chat with Red back dere," he remarks. "Dealing with telepaths can be a bit... weird. You know? You nevah quite get used to it, even when it stops being like... what de fuck is dis voice doing inside of my head when I know I'm not crazy." << This isn't what 'mom' was talking about when she said 'keep each other grounded' >> He fires back at Rachel. << Think she'll turn my mind into a twelve year old girl if she finds out? >> Smoke, puff, ash. Pete shakes his head. "Only ones I know, I'm trying to get /off/ the island, remember? I can look for volunteers for you if you send me some idea of what skills you need covered, but that's the best I can offer in that direction." HE IS NOT ACKNOWLEDGING TIME TRAVEL. But: he smirks. "I dated a telepath once. She was very blonde. I was very twenty-one. I know better now. She said something about nails and tar, I don't know-- anyroad," he stubs his cigarette out and flicks it into the sandbucket. "I'll do what I can," he says ruefully, reaching to clap Shift's shoulder, then gestures inside the bar and follows his own direction. He gives the two redheads a mock salute in passing. "Meet you properly next time," he tells them cheerfully, called across as he goes over to scoop up his notebook and finish off his beer. Then-- doorwards again; this time he's leaving. "Cheers." Rachel can't help but grin at Hope as she facepalms, and shrugs. Feeling the sudden presence of another telepath in close proximity, Rachel's aware that Hope's copied her powers and knows that she's playing a dangerous game - unless she wants Hope to find out more than she should. But Rachel judges the risk is small enough. Besides, there are several very good reasons to want Hope on their side, rather than running away from them - the fact that Rachel likes her is only one of them. Rachel snorts in amusement at Hope's telepathic comment. "That doesn't make me feel old. At all." She tells her out loud, even as Shift's perhaps defensive thought arrives in her mind. It's enough to make Rachel relent - considering she's supposed to be backing HIM up, she's had far too much fun at his expense already. Even if she'd very much like to make a comment when Shift tells Pete he's not crazy. Rachel's mental voice is perhaps slightly apologetic, but there's still an undercurrent of good humour when she replies to Shift's final question. << You've got a point. >> Rachel concedes, but then adds, << She'd better not. You're supposed to be in charge, remember? >> She's possibly reminding herself of that point, as well. As for Hope? Rachel just shakes her head wryly. "We have a confusing family. Better get used to it." << Dunno. But part of me wants to think '12 year old girl in a pink tutu who's a pretty, pretty princess and a huge fan of boy bands', but even I know Jean isn't that mean. >> Or so far as Hope knows anyways, considering she only met Jean once and was told not to call her 'Grandma'. but still, considering how she's butting in on this telepathic conversation... If it was possible to telepathically cough, the younger redhead would before letting out a faint telepathic, << Sorry. >> Then, as her copied powers fade away, there's a slight wince. "Sorry. not trying to make anyone feel old. And as for our 'family'... Trust me, you don't know how confusing it is until you meet my father, and find out his story from him." "Right," Kwabena answers, being easily corrected as he is. "I'll be sure to send you what we're looking for," he promises. In short order, however, he's raising his free hand in a halting gesture. "Hey, we're not dating," he points out. "But if she evah brings up nails and tar, I'll feed you whiskey for a whole night." After Pete claps him on the shoulder, he lifts his cigarette-wielding hand in a mock salute and says, "See you on de flip side, Wisdom." << Don't worry about it Red, >> is fired back Rachel's way. << She fried my brain once, I don't think she's prone to doing it again. Even if it was my idea. >> Kwabena hangs back for a moment, taking one more drag of his cigarette before snuffing it out with a brief transformation of his hand into swirling black gas, then flicks it into the sandbucket before heading back inside. Approaching the Summers table, he leans one hand against it, flicking his mis-matched eyes back and forth. "You two having fun yet?" Rachel sketches a vague salute of her own as Wisdom collects his stuff. "Sure." She says easily, and then because she's Rachel, adds, "If you're sure that's a good idea?" Before grinning and shaking her head to show she's not expecting a reply. As for Hope? Her suggestion makes Rachel smirk, but shake her head again, firmly this time. << Forget about Kwabena, I couldn't deal with that. >> She tells Hope, then frowns a bit as she sees the girl wince. "Hey." Rachel tells her. "Kidding." About the whole being old thing. Hope can be frighteningly serious and literal, Rachel's discovering. She nods, though, when Hope mentions her father. "At least I'll know him when I see him." She confides. "Nate showed me." That's a discussion for a whole different time. Rachel moves to sit sideways in her chair as Shift returns, the easier to look at both him and Hope. "You couldn't tell?" She asks him, then glances over at Hope. "I'd offer you a ride back, but there's not room on the bike. I could..." Rachel waves a hand toward her head. "Call someone to swing by with a car?" No pressure, Rachel's expression seems to say. Serious and literal is how Hope survived as long as she has. And yet, as Kwa returns, there is a slight head shake. "Odds are you don't want me near a car if you can avoid it. They tend not to survive the experience." Pause. "Same with space ships too, /technically/." Pause. "All right, so I've only been in two cars that I can remember, and one space ship. I crashed one car myself and the spaceship and its 'sister' ship were both destroyed and lost all hands." Pause. "But I didn't destroy the ships." Then there's another pause, before the younger redhead glances at Shift. "And odds are I should shut up now. Sorry." "Listen," Kwabena defends. "One beer isn't nearly enough to impair my driving." There is a beat, before he realizes just what Rachel is suggesting. He gives Hope a good once over, before turning a quizzical eye upon the older Summers. His mouth forms a syllable, but it never finds a voice, for in the span of a few seconds, Hope is talking like some Con-Junkie. He looks back toward Rachel. << You mean to bring her to the mansion? >> There is a momentary pause. << Your call. I'm not going to get in the middle of that kind of family business. >> Straightening, he releases his hand from the table and adjusts the jacket upon his shoulders. "Well, de Harley train's leaving. Like she said, I can't handle two passengers, as awesome as I pretend to be." He hooks a thumb toward the door, giving Rachel a smirk. "I'll keep de seat warm for next time," he remarks, before heading on his merry way. Category:Log